Gamer Logic
by XxXMika-ChanXxX
Summary: After another long and pointless World Meeting, America decides to show the nations some RPG horror games. Of course he hooks up the laptop to the wrong machine and now the nations are trapped in a world full of curses, ghosts, zombies, and monsters. The nations must find a way out before it's too late. What truths, hidden memories of three nations, will be revealed?
1. Prologue: Malfunction: Error Code WM-12

Title: Game Logic or Why You Never Let America Near Horror RPGs

Rating: T

Summary: After a long world meeting that got very little done, America decides to show the nations several horror RPG Live Plays he found. Instead of actually hooking up the laptop to a projector, it connected to one of Japan's failed attempts at getting into the 2D world. Now, in a world filled with curses, zombies, ghosts, and monsters the nations must find a way out before it's too late. What truths, hidden in the memories of three nations, will be revealed? Will they ever reach a happy ending?

Author's Note: This fic was actually thought of while scrolling through the horror genre of Hetalia fics, and my very twisted mind. This fic was just a little plot bunny *coughcatcough* that wanted to get attention. Also, there will be multiple parts, and some hints as to what the part is.

Warnings: Blood, slight gore, language, violence, crazy psycho puzzles, and content meant for teens.

Disclaimer: As this will contain elements of the Witch's House, Mad Father, Misao,The Crooked Man, Ib, Corpse Party, and Hetalia; I would like to say I don't own any of the wonderful games nor anime mentioned in this fic. So please, don't sue the authoress for writing this piece.

Prologue: Malfunction: Error Code WM-12

It was chaos. Not that it was anything new, but really one would think that after several centuries of meetings like this that the other nations would learn to get along. Nope, they never learn. It's always the same old arguments and insults thrown back and forth in an endless cycle. People stood in small groups scattered throughout the spacious meeting room, shouting loudly at each other in their native tongues and english.

"Everyone shut up!" A strongly accented german voice shouted, slamming his hands hard on the oak wood conference table. It worked, like always. The nations arguing stopped, if only for a moment to listen to what the now angered german would say.

"We will stop this childish arguing! Each person has 8 minutes to speak! Raise you hand to be called on!" Germany starts his normal rant.

It was all so well scripted, really we all knew by now Italy would raise his hand and Germany would call on him. Like always he would exclaim "Pasta!" loudly and the tension would dissolve instantly. Then Germany would say that this meeting would be continued tomorrow in a vain attempt to get the others to stop arguing for once.

One country, the loudest and most ignorant in every European's mind, America shouted, "Wait! We should totally just all hang out and play some games before tomorrow! It will be totally awesome! I'll be the hero and save the day!"

"I agree with America-san, it might just help release any anger we feel towards each other." Japan states wisely.

"Ve~ That sounds like fun!" Italy cheers, smiling at the thought of the twelve nations here actually getting along for once.

With everyone's agreements, the nations headed back to the conference room. Each personification was excited and a bit nervous to see what games would be played.

"Alright! Before we play the games, I would like to show you all several Live Plays of the games chosen. That way you have a slight idea as what to do and the layout of the area in the game." America loudly says, going over to the projector and hooking it up to his laptop.

"Wait. America-san!" Kiku exclaims only a bit too late. He had recognized the machine America hooked his laptop up to, and it wasn't a projector.

It was too late, America had pressed the on button and doomed all the nations to a terrible fate, well a fate almost as bad as that Halloween party Canada threw last year. Let's just say that party involved a haunted house too real for their likings, a murder mystery, and a whole lot of dark magic.

"You bloody git!" An angry British voice yelled at America.

"That was awesome!" said American replies, failing to read the atmosphere.

"Ve!~" An Italian exclaims followed by a German yelling, a frenchman rambling, muttered curses in Italian, directed towards a Spaniard, and Japanese, a long rant about the childishness of the other nations, a whispered "Who?", and a stream of kols.

Soon, nothing surrounded the nations as they all faded into unconsciousness.

****Error Code WM-12: End


	2. Malfunction: Error Code CP2-5

Title: Gamer Logic

Rating: T

Warning: Blood, Slight Gore, Violence, Curses (both magical and strong language), and Content meant for Teens. Please Read At Your Own Risk.

Disclaimer: This chapter contains elements of Corpse Party, therefore all warnings that apply to that game apply to this chapter and credit goes to the game's creators.

Chapter One: Malfunction: Error Code: CP2-5

A chorus of groans filled the darkened room. One groan was easily that of a child's, while the other two were grown men's. The first to awaken of the small group scattered in the fairly large room was a man with thick eyebrows, tweed suit with green accents, and wheat colored hair.

"Where am I?" The Brit groans, sitting up on the old wooden floor, rubbing his head. He takes a moment to collect himself before getting up to survey the room. As he does, he notices four rows of five desks. The desks themselves were nothing extraordinary, just small wooden desks with enough room for a student's papers and were small enough to obviously be an elementary school's. The real question was what they were still doing here if they looked so rotted.

The Brit heard the soft groaning of the other occupants in the room waking up, and being the self-proclaimed gentleman that he was, he went over and checked on the others.

The first man he saw was none other than the French Frog, as the Englishman called him. The Frenchman in question, and the source of the Brit's temper, had shoulder length wavy golden hair and a light sky blue suit on with a royal blue tie.

"Angleterre, where are we? And why is it that I am stuck with the worst cook ever!" The Frenchman ranted, wincing as he rubbed his back from the fall.

"My cooking isn't bad and to answer your question I have no idea. Last I knew we were in a meeting." England states, paying more attention to the room they were in.

"Where are we?" The loud voice of a child asks, breaking through the tense silence that was building in the room from the two rivals. The loud voice came from a young boy who appeared to be twelve years old and wearing a sailor shirt, blue capris, and a blue sailor hat.

"Sealand what are you doing here!" England exclaimed, his thick eyebrow rising in both shock and anger.

"I snuck into the meeting around the time America was talking about the games." Sealand explains, as if it were a simple fact. Which, considering how often he snuck into the world meetings it was.

"Well, ignoring that small matter," France intones, "we should try and figure out where we are and how we got here, no?"

The two bickering siblings nod, each glaring at the other, and proceed to look around the room. As the trio explores the classroom, noticing the gaping hole in the middle of the room and how it looks like everyone just up and left the building, two of them get a creeping feeling in the back of their minds. For England, he finds it odd that he hasn't seen any of his magical friends and that the whole building has a foul aura about it. For poor little Sealand, he can't help but feel like this room is familiar to him and he can't place why.

"France! Jerk England! I found something, but I don't think you'll like it." Sealand exclaimed as he read the newspaper clipping on the notice board. His blue eyes widening in absolute shock and horror, now he knew why this room was so familiar, but there was only one real way to confirm if it was the exact same as the school he saw in that video game.

"Sealand, what is it?" France asked, noticing the look on Sealand's face. The nicely dressed Frenchman walked over to where the micronation stood and read the article.

England, wondering why they were standing there, walked over and read the article as well. The article only caused the bad feeling he was getting to increase, and caused him to notice the malicious presence hanging in the air.

"Quick! Someone try the windows!" Sealand shouts, shocking the two older nations at the desperation in his voice.

Confused, both nations hurried to the windows and tried to open them. Yet no matter how hard they pulled on the windows or any attempt made to smash the glass, the windows remained firmly shut as though they were drawn on the walls. Sealand's distress only further increased as the two nations struggled.

"Sealand, I can't open this window." France states while wiping the sweat off his forehead with a silken handkerchief.

"I can't open the one on this end either. It's like the windows are bolted into place." England replies, not really focusing on the other two living occupants in the room. He blinked his forest green eyes three times in rapid succession, hoping to clear the dark mist clouding his sight.

"Well, we have to stick together!" Sealand exclaims, inching farther from the news article with each passing second.

"Sealand, where are we?" an annoyed Brit asks, having not paid any attention to the article.

"We're in Heavenly Host Elementary School, the setting of a horror RPG created in Japan." The small boy states tonelessly.

"What? How do you know this?"

"We're trapped here, just like the others who tried the Sachiko Ever After charm, and if the game is right we really need to get out of here as soon as possible. I know this because I've seen some Let's Plays of the game while online, even though Mom and Dad wouldn't have let me had they been awake." Sealand explains lifelessly, his eyes alert and darting around the room.

The two elder nations exchange a glance as if to say that they would stop fighting for as long as they were trapped here and that if they survived, they would either recognize Sealand as a nation or tell Finland and Sweden what his son did without them knowing, though England was definitely looking to do the latter.

"A charm you say?" England asks, tilting his head to the side as if hearing something no one else in the room could.

"Yes, a charm. It's called the Sachiko Ever After Charm and it's supposed to keep friends together, as friends, for the rest of their lives. In order to do the charm properly you must take a blank paper doll and say, 'Sachiko, we beg of you' for the amount of the people participating in the ritual and one time for Sachiko herself. However, if you forget to say it the extra time for Sachiko, you are then transported to Heavenly Host Elementary School and have to try and get out alive, or you go mad and die." Sealand explains as though talking to a toddler.

"Yet none of us did the charm at the meeting." A thoroughly confused France states sitting on the mini stage that held the teachers podium.

"Exactly. That's why we need to be extra careful while we are trapped here or else we could really die."

As soon as Sealand says that a ghostly apparition of a young child appears. This ghostly figure, though floating a couple inches off the ground, is roughly the height of a seven year old with long black hair covering her face and a torn old red dress. The girl lets out an eerie giggle that sounded far too demonic to be that of a child's, prompting Sealand to motion of England and France to run quickly, before the ghost could do whatever she intended.

"What the bloody hell was that?" England asks breathlessly. France was bent over grasping his knees as he too tried to regain his breath from the near marathon sprint the trio did up the hall and to the right.

"Sachiko's ghost." Sealand states, blue eyes shining in fear.

AN: Hello my dear readers! I am terribly sorry for the long wait for this chapter, but school got in the way and with summer, I wanted to make sure this was perfect. I am terribly sorry this chapter took so long, but I will try and have chapter two (and possibly three) up before this week ends. I will not be able to write on Sunday due to a family trip. Thank you for reading, Mika.


	3. Malfunction: Error Code WH-2

Title: Gamer Logic

Rating: T

Warning: Same as last chapter, but also adding in psychological themes. Please read at your own risk.

Disclaimer: This chapter contains elements of the Witch's House, another RPG Horror game. The warnings of that game apply here and credit belongs to the creators of the game.

Chapter Two: Malfunction: Error Code: WH-2

Two loud thuds echoed in the nearly empty forest, a thick fog filled the area causing the normally stunning green and sunlight to be hidden in shadows. Two men were laying haphazardly on the ground, one on the soft grass the other on solid earth.

The man who landed on the grass had short black hair and was dressed in a white business suit with a deep red tie and white dress shoes. His appearance gave the impression of a very wealthy man, as the white suit had gold cufflinks and the tie a golden tie pin in the shape of a dragon. He looked as if he could be the other man's brother, though they were not related in any way.

The man lying on the dirt was dressed in black suit pants, a long sleeved white silk mandarin styled shirt with gold buttons, black dress shoes, and a black suit jacket with a red and gold silk handkerchief. . His dark brown hair that was normally worn up in a low ponytail was splayed out around his head like a halo.

The first of the two Asian men to awaken was the one with short hair. His eyelids fluttered open, slowly adjusting his vision to the dim lighting of his surroundings. He slowly sat up, using his elbows to help support his weight and blinked slowly. The last thing he remembered was America talking about wanting to show some let's plays of some horror games that originated in his country, saying that it would unite the nations somewhat, and then he plugged in his laptop to… Oh. Based on his surroundings, he got a pretty good idea that the machine worked, but the young Japanese man also got a sudden sinking feeling.

He slowly began to stand up, carefully brushing his white outfit to remove any lingering grass pieces before they could stain. The young man walked around slowly, being mindful of where he stepped in the ever thickening fog. As he looked on the ground he noticed the body of another person, lying on the dirt road unconscious.

He walks over, careful not to make much noise, and shakes the other man awake. It takes a few seconds, but the other man springs up, ignoring his hair and screams like a girl while looking around for the culprit.

"Where are we? Kiku, this is not a funny joke!" The Chinese man yells his thoughts all over the place after being scared by his former brother. His own amber colored eyes meeting the deep brown of his companion's with an accusing and saddened look.

"I have no idea what joke you're talking about, and based on this strange familiarity I am getting, it is safe to assume that we are in one of the games from my country, though I can't give you any specifics."

"That is not possible! A person just can't end up in a ga…" The Chinese man trails off, noticing a pair of glowing yellow eyes watching the two of them.

"What's wrong Yao?" Kiku asks, noticing how the other man was staring at the trees behind him.

"We're being watched. I'll go check it out." Yao's eyes dart around cautiously as he moves towards the forest, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the woods.

Kiku watched as his friend disappeared into the forest and the ever thickening fog, his nerves on end and his senses on high alert, though he couldn't understand the full extent of why. Sure, he was in a game from his country, but that didn't mean that he would die. After all, it's only fiction and things of fiction can't hurt you.

Still the young Japanese man can't shake off the feeling, and while drawing his katana, follows his friend into the woods. He's only a couple of steps behind him and when Yao stops at the sight of a black kitten with glowing yellow eyes, Kiku too stops, but hides partly behind a tree.

"Kiku, you can come out." Yao states not bothering to look behind him at the Japanese man who wielded a katana.

"How?" Kiku whispers as he steps into the somewhat lit clearing.

"I found this cute little kitty alone! Can we keep him?" Yao asks, his love for cute things making itself known, even though Kiku can't help but feel like this cat is wrong. Unnaturally wrong, almost demonic in essence.

"Yo! This kitty has a name you know!" A small but annoyed Rhode Island accented voice exclaims from Yao's arms.

Yao looks down at the black cat in his arms in shock and disbelief. Kiku, on the other hand, looked at the cat like this was something that happened every day and he was used it.

"You can talk?" Yao asks, still in awe at the cat.

"You bet your soul I can. The name's Sebby and you two useless humans are royally screwed. There be a witch in these here parts, and she doesn't take to kindly to people like you." The same accented voice from earlier speaks out, looking at the man in the white suit with a knowing look in his yellow eyes.

"What do you mean?" Kiku questions the cat.

"She tears family and friends apart. Even though her physical form is long gone, her house remains and so does the power she wielded. It will tear you apart from the inside out and one of you will be dead. Just don't go to her house. Leave this place."

"Let's head back to the main road, I think I saw a sign which could tell us the way out." Kiku states, remembering how there was a sign that pointed to somebody's house and another that pointed to the forest's exit.

With that said the two humans and Sebby made their way out of the shrubbery, though Sebby was carried by Yao, and back to the dirt path where to where Kiku fell.

"Sebby and I will look for the exit to this forest. Kiku, stay there and don't do anything." Yao ordered as he and Sebby went down the foggy path upon reading the sign that pointed to the south for the exit and to the north for somebody's house, which Kiku could only guess was this supposed witch's house.

As Yao and Sebby walk for nearly half an hour, the come across this huge wall for thick thorns and beautiful, if not disturbing, red roses. Yao tries to see if there is a way to get around it but finds that it surrounds the whole perimeter of the south edge of the woods. In other words, there was no way to get around the roses, but as Yao walked he noticed a glint of dull metal. He approached cautiously, and found a rusted machete.

"What is this doing here…Far too convenient, but this should help with the rose problem." The oldest of the living nations whispers, thinking aloud and hoping that this whole thing isn't a set up by Japan.

"Well, are ya gonna use that thing to cut down those creepy roses?" Sebby asks, more of an Italian Rhode Islander accent slipping in as he looks at the man who was just staring at the machete.

"Oh." Yao quickly tries to cut down the roses, slashing at it in a futile attempt to clear a path. After about twenty minutes, China breathlessly throws down the machete in anger. He didn't even make a dent in the damn wall.

Meanwhile, while Yao was trying to break down the wall of roses, Kiku paced back and forth. How was it that they ended up in this game of all the ones his country created? Did it mean that machine worked? These were just some of the thoughts that occupied his thoughts as he waited for Yao to return.

The fog was slowly increasing, causing Kiku to freeze mid pace. Out of the fog a figure could be seen dragging themselves closer to him. As the figure grew closer, Kiku placed one hand on his katana that had been sheathed after meeting that cat.

"Please, help me." A sweet innocent voice called out weakly as the figure became more visible. Kiku blinked his eyes as a girl with purple hair and a blood red ribbon in said hair that looked like she had been torn in two and had her eyes gauged out crawled into sight using her arms.

"What's wrong? Who did this to you?" Kiku asks, wondering who would be cruel enough to do this to an innocent child.

"Please… I can't hold this form much longer. Please, let me walk. Help me destroy that house. Please." The ghostly figure pleads her voice growing weaker by the second.

It pained Kiku to see any child in pain; it reminded him of his own past and the pains of his children. He wanted to do anything for this girl, even though she was a complete stranger to him and had no ties to his country. Even though this girl was most likely apart of this game, he wanted to help.

"What can I do to help you?" Kiku asks concern visible in his eyes.

The ghost smiles slightly, "Just say yes. Please." She keeps up with the pleading tone, internally thrilled that her ploy was working.

"Yes." Kiku says unaware that was what the ghost needed to be said.

The ghost girl vanished into a black billowing mist that enters into Kiku, who's normally dark eyes go completely black as the mist begins to settle. The thick fog surrounding the area thins slightly, indicating that the ghost had done something to cause the horrible fog.

"Excellent. Now, I can finish what was started." The now possessed Kiku whispers, a slow coy smirk marring his normally calm exterior.

"Kiku, bad news!" Yao exclaims as he runs towards his little brother with Sebby keeping pace by his side.

"What is it?" The calm façade was back in place at the sight of the other man and the cat.

"There is a huge wall of roses that can't be cut down surrounding the whole of the south end of the woods."

"Well, I guess we have only one option." Kiku turns to the north and walks forward, not bothering to see if Yao is following him

They stop at the thinner patch of roses, surrounded by trees on either side, which blocked their path. Yao wordlessly cuts down the roses, shocked that it worked this time.

"Are you kidding me? What kind of machete was that?" An annoyed Yao asked, throwing the now broken machete to the ground in anger.

After another ten minutes of walking, the duo came across a house and sitting on the stump was none other than Sebby. The door slowly crept open with a loud groaning shriek.

Sebby looks at the door and back to Yao and Kiku, though his eyes are more focused on Yao, "I'm warnin ya now. One of ya will die."

AN: Longest chapter by far, and also one of the most fun to write. I love the sarcastic cat the most, but some other references were fun to include too. Thank you to my reviewers, you make this fun to write due in part to your reactions, and due to the fact I wanted to see what people think. Hard to believe it was a plot kitty that inspired this.


	4. Malfunction: Error Code IG-2

Title: Gamer Logic

Rating: T

Warning: Strong Language, Magical Curses, Evil Art, and all things that would make a fic T. Honestly, I think none of you read these so enjoy!

Disclaimer: See Previous Chapters.

Chapter Three: Malfunction: Error Code IG-2

Two men slowly awoken on a cold marble floor in what appeared to be an empty gallery of sorts. The first one to open his eyes was a tall blond man with blond hair cut in military fashion dressed in a charcoal grey business suit with a blue tie. His companion was slightly shorter with brown hair that has an impossible curl that defies all laws of gravity.

The blond gets up first and looks around in confusion, "Where are we?"

"I don't know Ludwig, but it seems like a gallery! Maybe we can see some pretty paintings!" The loud voice of the Italian man chimes cheerfully, standing up and brushing the dust off his black business suit and straightening his emerald tie.

"Feliciano…" The German sighs, used to his friend's antics by now. Yet he can't shake this feeling of sadness and a feeling like he's forgetting something really important, something that causes him to reach for where the locket lays.

"What? We're in a gallery, and yeah it's strange how we ended up here, but it would hurt to explore it. Right?" Feliciano smiles, his eyes wide with his smile.

Feliciano knew he had his friend beat. After all, he had plenty of time to perfect arguing logically, though not in circumstances quite like this. It was different every single time, yet somehow Feliciano always got paired with Ludwig and Alfred his brother, almost like fate didn't want to separate them. Well, that was his take and besides he had a feeling about this gallery. A feeling that caused him to clutch the locket he's had since 900.

"Well, it looks like we're in front of a painting." Ludwig says, interrupting the Italian man's thoughts as he noticed the big oil painting they were in front of.

"Well, that's odd. It's a pretty painting, a bit too abstract for my liking, but it gets the point across. What's it called?" Feliciano asks while commenting on the very abstract painting.

Since Feliciano loved art, be it painting, sculpting, or singing, he could get the message of disorder. The chaos of the piece, maybe it was caused by feelings of the artist or of the time it was painted? He couldn't tell.

"I can't tell the first part is blurred out. It's something World." Ludwig tries to get a closer look at the blurred part, only to find that it is blurred by what looks like red paint.

"Well, let's walk around then and see what other works there are!" The Italian chimes, dragging his friend by the arm towards a display of a red rose sculpture.

The two continue about in this fashion until the lights in the gallery go out, shocking the two as dim emergency lights kicked on.

"Ludwig! Why did the lights go out?" Feliciano asks, slightly scared because of a very ominous and foreboding sense of doom and despair seemed to settle in the room.

"Maybe there was an issue with the power or something." Ludwig explains, trying to calm his Italian friend down.

A loud series of bangs echoed throughout the corridor as bright red words formed on the walls. The words looked like they were written in blood, which caused the Italian to whimper at the sight. It was one thing to see blood spilled on the battle fields or from the mafia in his country, but it was an entirely different matter for it to appear out of thin air.

"Things just seem to be getting odder by the minute." Ludwig mutters, looking at the words on the wall that say, "Come play with me Italia." Those words sent a shiver down both Feliciano and Ludwig's spines. Someone knew they were nations, or at least that Italy was.

They follow where the lettering was leading and only to find themselves in front of the painting they saw when they first arrived. It seemed darker, now that the lights were the dim emergency ones and the fact there was red paint, or maybe it was blood, leaking from the portrait.

"Why are we back here?" Italy asks his back to the painting so he could face Germany.

Before the German could answer black shadowy hands reach out of the painting and grab Italy around the waist pulling him into the painting. Italy reached one hand out to Germany, fear filling his brown eyes.

"Germany!" He screamed as Germany grabbed his hand, being pulled into the portrait with him.

"I'll never let you go. I'll be there for you, I promise, I'll protect you." Germany states unaware of how serious a vow he was making.

Once those words leave his lips, the locket around his neck and the one around Italy's neck glow with a faint white light that went unnoticed by the two nations, who were more focused on trying to get out of the mess they were about to get in alive. That and figuring out why Italy was the target.

AN: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but I will tell you this. Major hints were dropped this chapter towards the main plot, and the reason for the lockets will be revealed later on in the Ib arc. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it's shorter than the others.


	5. Malfunction: Error Code CM-2

Title: Gamer Logic

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, obviously, or the very creepy psychological horror game known as The Crooked Man, any reference to anything mentioned, or the silly rhyme/song by the same name.

Warning: Strong Psychological themes, language, creepiness, and overall insanity.

Chapter Four: Malfunction: Error Code: CM-2

There were two soft thumps that echoed around the tiny room as two men fell from the sky, appearing from nowhere. One of the men, a blond with a cowlick, landed on one of the two pale green sofas. The other blond with a single piece of hair that curled landed on the white sheeted bed.

The blond on the sofa woke up first. The man had on a black business suit with a red tie and an American flag tiepin, black loafers, and an old World War Two era bomber jacket. The blond had blue eyes hidden behind square framed glasses. His outfit somewhat shocked his friends, who were expecting jeans and a T-shirt, but the American had learned to straighten up somewhat.

The blond on the bed, who appeared to be the American's twin brother with slight differences, wore a black suit, light blue shirt, a royal blue tie with a silver maple leaf tie pin, black sneakers, and square glasses.

"Wha-"The blond on the couch starts, his vision slowly coming into focus as he slowly sits up looking around the tiny apartment room. He takes off his glasses, blinks a few times, puts them back on, and blinks again. He could've sworn he was in a world meeting and was going to show the others some cool games to help promote peace… Oh.

Now the blond remembered. He had connected a weird machine to the laptop, and when he selected the playlist he had on You tube, the whole room filled with light. Well damn, now he was back to being a pawn. At least he hoped to whatever deity was out there that it wasn't a hopeless game. He hated having to act, but at least he had warned his brother last night to wear running shoes.

The American gets off the sofa, sighing deeply, and goes over to where his brother lay. He gently placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and shook him awake.

"Mattie…Bro, wake up. Seriously, this is no time to be sleeping." He states, eyeing the room as if trying to place which game he was in. Since he had played several of the games, or seen the live plays, he was fairly certain he knew which game this was, and couldn't help the shudder that ran through his body.

"Al? Where are we?" The blond Canadian nicknamed Mattie slowly asked, getting up and stretching slightly as he does. His name was Matthew, and only his brother called him Mattie, so he knew who he was with at least he thought he knew. He only remembers his brother Alfred setting up a projector and the next thing he knew was darkness.

"No idea bro, looks like the inside of a game I played once." Alfred frowned, glancing at the twins' surroundings.

"What game? Why is it that I think something will go wro-"Matthew starts, the phone ringing sharply midsentence.

The Canadian gets off the bed, and walks to the only phone in the room. The phone was an off white creamy color and obviously one that was popular roughly 20 or 30 years ago, and seemed right at home on the old oak desk. He picks up the phone and puts it on speaker, wanting his brother to hear it, and not entirely trusting whoever could be on the other end.

"Hello?" Matthew answers the phone with a shaky voice.

"Bathroom. Look-th-bat-mirror." A strange gravel voice answers, static interrupting the call and making it hard to hear the message. It got its point across though and managed to send chills down the twin brothers' spines and cause the Canadian to drop the phone.

"Huh? Who the hell was that?" The loud American states, startling the Canadian with the sudden loudness.

Matthew picked the phone up that was dangling by the curly cord and put it back on the receiver. That was the only use for the cord, one he missed, but he moved on from it. The voice on the phone however, that freaked him out. It caused a thousand questions to appear in his mind, and when he thought he was close to an answer a thousand more appeared.

Drip. Drip. Drip. An annoying sound of a leaky faucet penetrated the air, causing the American, Alfred's face to scrunch up. That was one thing he hated more than silence, an annoying sound.

"No idea. Hey Al?"

"What Mattie?" He was glad for this small talk, took his mind off the dripping sound.

"What do you think that person on the phone was saying, it was hard to make out, but then again I was also thinking about where we are and how we got here and how are we gonna get back."

"Well, to answer your many questions in no real order, we're in a video game. It's probably Japan's fault for it, but we're stuck in a horror game, and I have no clue how we'll get out. Also, the person on the phone said 'Bathroom. Look in the bathroom mirror.' I mean really bro, it was easy."

"A horror game?" Matthew asks his mind stuck on that one fact even though he heard the rest of what his brother said.

"Yeah, Canadia. A horror game, most likely an RPG horror game from Japan's place." Alfred explains, purposely getting his brother's country name wrong to annoy him.

"From Japan's place? You mean this whole mess is most likely his fault!" Canada exclaims, he hated horror games, not to the extent his brother did, but he hated them all the same.

"Yeah. That's what I said, seriously bro, get your head in the game. Well, not literally 'cause we're already in a game."

Canada just rolls his eyes at his brother's antics. He was used to them, but it was still inconvenient at times. It was nice comic relief, but this situation was not really the best for it. It didn't help with the bad feeling he got, one that was normally right. Why was America implying it was Japan's fault? Did he know more than he let on?

"Yo, Canada, are we gonna check out where that dripping sound is coming from?" America asked, breaking Canada out of his thoughts because he was annoyed with the dripping sound.

"Yeah, but I don't think we should spilt up though. Let's not pull a Scooby-Doo."

This causes America to roll his eyes, though he manages a grin at the reference to one of his favorite cartoons from his country. He knew it was ridiculous, but he understood the reference and told his brother, "Don't worry. Splitting up isn't part of the plan, plus it's too dangerous to."

The pair make their way out of the room, after having checked the kitchen sink to see if that was dripping and finding it dry as a bone decided to head out, and came across a split in the path.

"The dripping sounds like it's coming from the right." Canada says, pointing to the mini hallway on the right that led to a closed mahogany door.

The two walk down the small narrow hallway, the seconds feeling like minutes as the dripping sound grew louder and louder the closer the pair got. America slowly opens the door, afraid that a monster will jump out at the pair.

It swung open to reveal nothing, a bit anticlimactic but it caused the pair to let out a sigh of relief. They entered the bathroom, looking around to see if anything was out of place. Canada tapped his brother on the shoulder as he found a piece of paper folded in between the mirror and the wall.

"Al?"

"What is it bro?" Alfred asked, turning to look at his brother.

"I found something; it looks like it could be important." He shows Alfred the paper as he says this, unaware that his brother was looking in the mirror behind him.

"Yeah, and I see something on the mirror."

"What?"

"It says 'Under the Bed.' Mattie, did you write that?"

"No. That's really creepy. But at least I know where we need to look next."

The twins exit the room, after turning off the leaky faucet, while shutting the door firmly behind them. They walk back to the living area, their footsteps echoing in the hallway each step slow.

"Al, you look under the bed."

"What? Why me?"

"You're the hero aren't you?"

Alfred grumbles under his breath, annoyed at his brother and scared because he wasn't so sure if something would grab him and pull him under the bed. He gets down on his hands and knees and looks under the bed. Well, reaches blindly with his hands more like it, until his hands find a piece of paper.

"Hey, I found something." Al says as he pulls his hand out that was grabbing the paper tightly. He gets off his hands and knees, brushing his pants with one hand after standing up, and hands his brother the paper.

"Let's read it." The Canadian suggests.

Matthew unfolds the paper that his brother handed to him and tilts his head to the side, "Looks like course selections for a law school."

"Maybe the person who lived here left it?" Al frowns, not sure why he was getting a bad feeling about this.

"Let's read the other paper I found in the bathroom." Canada says while pulling out the other paper he found, and unfolding it.

"It looks like a brochure." Al says, looking over his brother's shoulder to read the paper.

"Did the former occupant of this place leave it here too?"

"If he did he's really forgetful." The American says.

A loud screeching sound echoed throughout the room, causing the brothers to jump and look at each other wide eyed.

"What was that?" Canada asks.

"Only one way to find out Canadia!"

"It's Canada!"

The pair exits the living room, and goes down the left hallway, after the Canadian reminded the American that the sound was wood dragging across would and that the bathroom didn't have anything wooden in it.

Alfred opens the door and Matthew notices something off. The wooden chair was in front of the trash can. The Canadian nudges his brother and points to the chair.

"That had to be what moved, but that's not the real question."

"Yeah, I mean who the hell moved it when we're the only ones here." Alfred asks, eyeing the chair cautiously, trying not to think of ghosts.

"Maybe it was a gho-."

"Nope! Whatever it was probably wanted us in here though." Alfred cuts his brother off, pushing him into the room.

The pair enters the room and begins to explore it. Alfred looks at the desk and opens the top drawer, and then tries to open the others.

"Huh? That's odd."

"What's odd Al?" Matthew asks, looking at the cabinet next to the desk.

"Only one of the drawers opens. Oh, and I found what looks like a torn out page of a diary."

"Did you grab it?"

"Of course I did."

"Good, now put the chair back and let's get out of here."

America does just that, making sure to reclose the top drawer before putting the chair back into place. After he does that the pair run out of the room, close the door and head back to the living room. Once they are sitting safely on the couch, they read the entry and look at each other sadly.

"Whoever left this must have really loved the girl he wrote about." Matthew whispered.

"Yeah, so much so that it drove him mad." Alfred whispers, folding the paper back up.

"Let's just hold onto it, but not read it again."

"Yeah."

As soon as the Canadian says that the old television turns on to a white noise, causing the two to jump slightly.

"What the hell is up with this place!" The American exclaims, seriously getting freaked out by all these odd occurrences.

They both get up, deciding to be safe rather than sorry, and walk over to turn off the television. As they look at the static screen, bright red letters appear spelling out the word Sink. Alfred quickly turns off the television and looks at his brother.

"It said sink. Guess we better go find another sink," the Canadian says quietly, "I think there is one over in the kitchen of this room."

They walk towards the small area where they see the fridge and notice a counter with a sink. The brothers cautiously head over to the sink and look around it.

"Huh? Okay, what's up with all this paper." Alfred says annoyed as he pulls out a scrap of paper from under the sink.

"I'll read it."

"Be my guest." Alfred says, handing over the scrap of paper to his brother.

"There was a Crooked Man. There was a crooked man, and he walked a crooked mile. He found a crooked sixpence against a crooked stile. He bought a crooked cat, which caught a crooked mouse… And they all lived together in a little crooked house." Matthew reads off the paper, frowning slightly in confusion.

"Why is there a nursery rhyme here?"

"I don't know Al, but it could be important. Maybe it was something left by the former occupant?"

"Maybe, but why would they leave it here."

"Who knows, Al, who knows." The Canadian says looking from the little nursery rhyme to his brother's bright blue eyes.


End file.
